Once you lose trust
by wolfdragonful
Summary: A story from my Creative Writing class. Try to guess their jobs.


Once you loose Trust…

Manicured lawns stretched as far as the eye could see. Dew dribbled down each stalk differently, leaving a clear trail if they were bent or otherwise disturbed. Ichigo's black boots were becoming heavy thanks to the cool drops that were beginning to coat his fingers and pants cuffs. His breath was a visible vapor as he [anted with adrenaline of what he was doing. He had vowed he would never break into someone's house ever again but that vow had been given to a person who broke their own. He felt his vow had become void and so, he was going to start his old life up again.

Ichigo slinked to the squared bushes, diving into them with rusty ease. A guard with only a taser gun for a weapon walked past, oblivious to Ichigo's presence. The meaty guard waved his flashlight over the green expanse lazily before moving on. Ichigo shook his head. _So much for the guards_, he thought. He peaked out of the bush long enough to find the coast was clear before crawling to the double, glass doors before him.

His hands shook as he pulled his lock pick kit out of his back pocket. The silver implements shone in the scant moonlight. He felt like Sweeny Todd getting his knives back. Licking his lips, Ichigo recalled how easy it had been to scale the stone wall that surrounded the home of his ex-lover. It had been too easy to talk Shinji into playing get away driver but that was beside the point. Ichigo had to get the one item his once lover had ever loved; a photo of the two of them at the beach. The picture was nothing really. The locket that Ichigo had given the man was hidden in the picture's frame. Ichigo just had to know what his lover had placed in the locket even if it meant committing suicide to do it.

The tumblers of the lock clicked into place and Ichigo eased the door open carefully. He crawled into the study on the balls of his feet, sighing as the door closed behind him. He eased himself up as he pushed the white curtains aside. His fingers skimmed over the stitching of the charcoal leather office chair that he, personally, had many fond memories of. He jerked his fingers back as if they had been burned, his brown eyes narrowing into slits for his wandering thoughts. Ichigo rubbed his sweating palms on his obsidian cargo pants before pulling out a pair of equally dark latex gloves from his pockets. As he slipped the prepared gloves over his hands, the edges blending into the hems of his dark sleeves, his eyes flitted over the desktop. It was bare save for a lamp, pen and pencil holders, laptop, and a notepad. Ichigo snorted at how pristine it all looked.

Tugging at drawer handles, he found each one unlocked and only filled with files for finances. When he found the will in the center drawer, he was tempted to read it but the lack of time move on to the nearby, ceiling high bookshelves. Encyclopedias, reference book, financial aid books, and self improvement books covered one entire wall. Ichigo could not believe how anal his ex-lover had always been about his money. The only taboo thing in their relationship had been money. Ichigo crossed the room, passing the coffee colored leather couches, seats, glass coffee table, and Persian rug over with quick glances. What he wanted was not there so his attention returned to the other bookcases.

The other wall had books on wars, inventions, and people on one half while the other half was covered with pictures and science fiction books. Ichigo caught glimpse of titles like _Hunting Party_ by Elizabeth Moon and _World War Z_ by Max Brooks between various pictures of world icons. Pyramids in Egypt were paired with Niagara Falls and the Eifel Tower. There were not any people in the pictures save for three; one was of Ichigo's ex-lover with his friends in high school, motorcycles littered between the teens, another was of Ichigo and his own friends – a bad date gone wonderfully right. The third picture however caught Ichigo's eyes faster than the other pictures and their subjects.

The last picture was one Ichigo had never seen before. In the picture was his ex-lover in all of his Adonis like glory and a woman. Ichigo's hand trembled as he reached for the picture that was framed in the very frame he was looking for. The silver frame adorned with panthers on opposite corners that Ichigo had bought specifically for that man for the picture he wanted. He licked his suddenly parched lips as he stared at the voluptuous woman that was lying on his ex-lover's stomach and chest.

The woman had chocolate skin, bright blonde hair that was cut short save for the three tails she had braided to perfection, and eerie sea green eyes. She lay on her stomach, her fingers splayed over a defined pectoral muscle of the man Ichigo was stealing from despite a promise. The tiny two piece swimsuit she wore left nothing to the imagination and would have caused massive hemorrhaging in any straight man. Thick, muscled arms encircled her hourglass figure; pulling it closer to hardened abdominals Ichigo would remember anywhere. The two of them were on that same beach in the same spot as the picture Ichigo wanted had been staged.

Ichigo chewed his lip as he pried the frame a part. He did it almost gently, as if it was fragile. The item he wanted no longer mattered now. The date that would be on the back of the new picture was far more important now. In the bottom right corner he found the words _Me and Hal at Laguna on 7/20/10_ in the perfect calligraphy Ichigo had come to love. His hands shook violently as he began to see red. Three weeks after that man had left him, claiming that the entire relationship had been fake and meaningless, that man was at their beach with another woman. A month had passed since the picture had been taken and Ichigo could not believe what he was learning. How could that man move on so fast? He could have been cheating on Ichigo. That was the only explanation that made any sense.

"You lying son of a bitch," Ichigo hissed as tears streamed down his cheeks. "You bastard. I hate you." He slipped the photo into his pocket and replaced the empty frame onto the shelves as if it had never been moved.

Ichigo clenched his fists as he looked around the room. Everything had been left in place besides the frame. What Ichigo had not touched was the safe that sat hidden on the wall on his right behind a painting of a creek in winter. Ichigo lifted the painting gingerly and lay it on the desktop. He knew the combination by heart since it had been told to him by that man. The dial clicked softly as he turned it, the tumblers falling into place swiftly. The door opened up to Ichigo lovingly to reveal the two things that man cared for more than anything; a financial book that revealed a hidden life as a crime boss and a photo album.

Ichigo grabbed both and shut the metal door with a soft click. The painting was back in place in seconds, looking as if it had never been touched. Ichigo slipped into the living room that sat next door to the study. Striding past the couches he knew to be soft and over a rug his back had been rubbed raw on, he moved for the fireplace with haste. He had wasted far too much time in this place. The fire that crackled in the fireplace was fueled by gas and billowed almost comfortingly behind the hearth. Kneeling, Ichigo fished the pictures of that man's friends and family out of the album until the only pictures left were the ones that contained Ichigo himself. He spread them out on the hearth carefully before tossing the album into the fire. The flames spat and crackled at their new source of food and he smirked as he left with the financial book.

As Ichigo slipped back into the study, his brown eyes still focused on the spitting flames, he came into contact with something solid. His eyes widened as strong arms slinked around his body and lips brushed over the shell of his ear. Ichigo's breath hitched and he gripped the records in his arms tighter to himself as the chorded arms pulled him closer to their owner. A low chuckle rumbled in the taller man's chest as Ichigo stiffened in his embrace.

"You promised to stop this idiotic life," a confidently smug voice rumbled in Ichigo's ear. The arms tightened slightly as the man let his nose skim over the unruly spikes of Ichigo's orange hair. "You promised me, Ichigo."

"You promised to be legitimate," Ichigo snarled, his confidence returning as he tried to block out the touches. "When's that goin' to happen Grimmjow?"

"I thought I was legit already." Grimmjow straightened and spun Ichigo around to face him. Grimmjow's lips were drawn in a smug grin with the slightest hint of insanity. He was the Cheshire cat incarnate.

"Bullshit," Ichigo sneered, shoving the records into Grimmjow's broad chest. The taller man grunted softly from the impact, and eyebrow lifted in interest. To tell the truth, he had not expected Ichigo to actually try to break in, let alone have enough anger left over from the breakup. Seeing the orange haired thief slink across his lawn had made the teal haired man swell with joy. Grimmjow had not wished to break things off with Ichigo but his wish for Ichigo's safety had won out over the wish to keep the shorter man close.

"Why are you here Ichi?" Grimmjow asked casually as he took the records to his desk. His eyes flicked over the room only to find nothing out of place. He had forgotten how good Ichigo had been. He sincerely hoped that Ichigo had only pulled this stunt to make a point.

"No reason," Ichigo ground out. Grimmjow did not see him as a threat obviously considering the teal haired man had turned his back to Ichigo. Why would Ichigo be a threat anyway? Ichigo had become domesticated when the teal haired demon took him as a lover. He had loved being the man's only love interest for those blissful five years. The man however had not kept his promise to become a legitimate business man and had dared to tell Ichigo 'it was all fake'. As far as Ichigo could tell, Grimmjow had seen those five years as a waste of time. Ichigo found his thoughts wandering back to the new picture and realized the words were horridly true. He could not take it anymore.

"It's late. You must be tired," Grimmjow cooed, sauntering to the safe. He lifted the painting off the hook and opened the safe with his other hand. "You can stay the night."

"I have plans," Ichigo half lied. He watched as Grimmjow did not even glance into the safe before turning to fetch the records from the desk. Grimmjow's jaw tightened with what seemed to be regret. Ichigo shook the feeling off and strode to the double doors.

"What plans have you made? Maybe I'll join you."

"It's none of your business what I do anymore," Ichigo snarled before slinking out the doors. "After all, it was all fake to you."

The doors closed with a soft click and Grimmjow had to strain to hear Ichigo's movements. Shaking his head, he marveled at how Ichigo had seemingly never lost those god given abilities of his. Grimmjow sighed as longing filled him once more and he berated himself for not simply locking Ichigo away in the mansion. His blue eyes fell into the safe as he began to place the records back only to narrow in confusion. Where had the photo album gone? The fire crackled behind him and he stopped breathing.

"Damn!" he hissed, dropping the records as he raced to the fireplace. Grimmjow stared in horror as the photo album began to be eaten by the flames. He fished it out, burning his hands in the process, and covered the book with a blanket. He beat at the blanket, his eyes wide as saucers. As he beat the fire into submission, he glanced to the photos on the hearth. To his dismay, none of them had Ichigo in them. How could Ichigo burn the pictures Grimmjow cared for so much? He did not care about the pictures of his friends as much as he cared for the pictures of Ichigo. Standing quickly, Grimmjow rushed to a wide window to see Ichigo flipping him the bird before tumbling off the top of the wall.

_Ichigo…_

* * *

The bar that sat in the outskirts of town was one everyone knew. To some it was a dive that should have been burned to the ground while others saw it as a safe haven. For Ichigo, it was the place where he could find an old friend without fail. Tess Reardon was a retired thief in the respect that she no longer went into the field. She did however, run the theft ring in town and her talents were always kept to peak perfection. She had even dared to name her bar _Mafia House_ when actual Mafia members sat in her booths. No one questioned her though. She was Ada Wong incarnate.

"Do I want to know why you're wearing the outfit again?" Tess asked casually as she polished a glass. Her smooth frame leaned against the wood shelves in the back of her bar. Her pants hugged her hips and thighs, flaring slightly at the knee. Her designer strapless top showcased the tanned expanse of her shoulders and chest. Her eyes changed color in different lighting behind her rectangle glasses. Her hair fell to her shoulders in a mix of blonde and brown. Ichigo smiled at her before slipping behind the granite bar.

"I need to talk to you," he called over the blaring music. Tess lifted a brow in interest before calling one of her employees over. Her hips swayed as she marched to the lounge, her high heels clicking almost inaudibly against the flooring.

"Inside," she said, her hand shoving a door open. Ichigo strode forward quickly into the room that was filled with couches chairs, and a small kitchen. In the corner sat a Sony boom box ready for use if the need ever arose.

"What can I do fer ya?" Tess asked as the door clicked shut behind her. The noise from outside died down to a soft murmur as soon as the door slid into place. Tess waltzed over to a couch and sprawl in it as she kicked off her heels. "Seriously Ichigo, I thought ya quit this shit years ago."

"I did Tess. However, he promised to become legit so I see it as void. How have you been?" Ichigo sank into a leather chair as he spoke, voice becoming bitter. Tess glanced at him, her expression bored as her hands played with her hair.

"I've been great. Trainees suck in comparison to you but you were my best guy. How about ya? What 'cha been up ta?"

"He ended it. Two weeks later, he's at Laguna with some woman named Hal." Ichigo's fists clenched. "The next time he sees me though he wants to know how I've been like he cares still. Do you know what he called our time together?"

"You bitched about it to Toshiro so yeah I know. He called it meaningless and fake."

"Obviously he wasn't pulling my leg."

"Please tell me ya didn't use that outfit to play stalker on my best customer!" she moaned, he feet flailing in the air. She pouted pleadingly at him for a moment before he shook his head.

"No. I went to steal back the locket I gave him. I ended up finding this," he pulled the picture out and handed it over, "and burned his photo album."

"The one he keeps locked in the safe? With the records the IRS never sees?"

"That's the one."

"Ichigo! There were pictures of his family in that thing!" she screeched as she bolted upright. Ichigo smiled as he remembered the pictures that had included her in them that he had saved from the flames.

"I took every photo that didn't have me in them out of it. The other pictures are safe."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now, the reason I came here is because I want my job back. I just want to be a thief again, no questions asked."

"Your skills still good?" Tess asked, her lips drawing themselves in a thin line.

"Yes."

"Well I guess I could use you." She stood slowly, her hands brushing her pants off. "I'm gonna guess ya didn't want him to know where I put ya right?"

"Yeah. Don't tell him. He doesn't care for me anyway so why bother right?"

"Telling him would only result in my losing you again." Tess waltzed over and handed the picture back to him. He stuffed it back into his pocket with disgust. Then, his eyes flashed with an idea. Tess had seen that look before.

"Tess? Can I ask for a favor?"

Tess bit back a moan. She knew that tone. "Sure. What do you need?"  
"To disappear again."

"As you wish King," Tess sighed, the noise from the outer room filling the room again as she opened the door. As the noise grew, the old nickname was swallowed up. As she returned to her post at the bar, tears began to sting at the corners of her eyes. She gripped the granite counter top, her knuckles turning white. The last time something like this had happened, Ichigo had dropped off the face of the world save for his monthly sending of cuts for her. As she began to shake, a familiar rumbling voice caught her attention.

"Where is he Tess?" He head snapped up to meet blue eyes that were burning with anger, regret, and loss. She hardened her expression.

"Not here Grimmjow."

"Bull!" You're the only other person he trusts! Where is he?"

"Ya just don't get it do ya? Ya just just had to get all soft and mushy fer him didn'cha? Yer such an idiot Grimmjow!"

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to give him up? It was either I distanced us or he'd be gone for good!"

"Next time, lock them away in that mansion of yours."

"Do you know how often my house gets attacked?"

"Yes I do. It's still safer there than saying a relationship like the one you two had was completely meaningless."

"So you have seen him!"

"No I haven't!" Tess screeched. She took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing, her legs carrying her back to the lounge. "I haven't seen the kid I took in. ya changed him Grimmjow. Hell, he changed you."

"You think I don't know that? Where is Ichigo?" Grimmjow hissed as he followed her while staying on the opposite side of the bar. Unlike Ichigo, Tess had never allowed him behind her bar. She was amazed he was adhering to her rule.

"For god's sake Grimmjow," she huffed as she opened the lounge door once again. Her eyes flicked over the room to find Ichigo had left. She felt her heart break as she realized that he had left just the way he had the last time. The last time Ichigo had disappeared, he had been gone for two years only to return home with cold eyes. He had met Grimmjow a month or so later and Tess had nearly leapt for joy with warmth returned to those brown orbs. Now, it was leaving again as if Ichigo was regressing back to that time.

"I have to talk to him Tess. Explain things. Beat him up for burning those pictures. I'll forgive trying to take my records but burning those pictures was unforgivable!" Grimmjow's hands clenched into fists as he spoke. "Where is he?"

Tess nearly screamed as Grimmjow began to sound pleading and weak. What had Ichigo actually done to this man? She groaned and recently occupied, her eyes trained on the floor. As they flicked over the carpeting, she caught sight of the photo Ichigo had brought with him. Snatching it up from the floor, she growled out a soft curse. Shoving it into Grimmjow's hands she sniffed.

"That's where he is and I ain't gonna read it for you!"

Grimmjow watched as she flopped back into her seat and shuddered as he thought he saw tears beading at her eyes. Glancing at the picture, he bit back a groan when he realized which picture it was. A stupid picture Hal talked him into taking and framed in Ichigo's frame and what really killed him was the fact that the picture that had once been in that frame had not survived the fire.

"Right," he whispered. "This might have set him off more than my words alone." He flipped the now crumpled picture over to see Ichigo's short hand.

_Thank you Tess. I'll disappear quickly. I'll make sure to send you your cuts._

_-Ichigo_

"Disappear?" Grimmjow asked blankly. "What does that mean?"

"It means he's left," Tess murmured softly. Grimmjow flinched at her voice.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Remember when you first met? Remember how cold his eyes were? He left two years ago with no contact at all save for sending me cuts from whatever he stole so in some ways, he was on assignment. This time however, I don't think we'll see him again."

Grimmjow paled at Tess' words. He may never see Ichigo again? Not ever? He gripped the picture tightly before striding past the woman whom had catered to his business for years.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "I'll wait for him."

"Good luck to you then."

Grimmjow nodded as he walked out of the bar, his hand drifting to his collar to take hold of the locket adorned with leafy vines. He had moved it from the frame easily. He would never loose it.

* * *

**There you go. A one shot. A crappy one but fine. It was for my Creative Writing class.**


End file.
